


of all the things my hands have held

by BriWei



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Family, Fluff, Hands, Holding Hands, M/M, seriously so much hand talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 14:09:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20259358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriWei/pseuds/BriWei
Summary: "... the best by far is you."On a warm summer evening, Connor sits with his daughter.Originally a twitter thread for Ada! <3





	of all the things my hands have held

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AdelineAround](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdelineAround/gifts).

> Ha-ha, so I spent a lot of time staring at android hands and hand diagrams and I'm sure the few details I included are likely still wrong, but. ;3; Even all this time later the word hand looks funny to me.
> 
> Thanks to [Ada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdelineAround/) for letting me borrow Hannah, she’s a sweetie and I still hope I did right by her. Also inspired by [blackeyedblonde's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackeyedblonde/pseuds/blackeyedblonde) cute babby au(s).

"Dad, can I see your hand?"

Connor looked up from the tablet he was currently poring over, pausing in his work for the moment. Hannah had pulled herself up onto the kitchen chair opposite him, balanced on her knees in order to sit up higher and see better. She was carefully setting out a piece of notebook paper and a handful of markers. Blacks and grays, all different types ranging from her watery crayolas to a couple of permanent markers Connor was positive he'd hidden after the last time she'd gotten a hold of them.

When she didn't elaborate or look up at him right away, he simply sat and observed. She was busy uncapping each marker, making a small line on the notebook paper for each one before setting it aside and moving on to the next. The lines themselves didn't seem to have a pattern, but it looked like she was going from lightest to darkest. There weren't many markers to begin with, so it didn't take long before Hannah finished and observed her work.

After looking over the lines for a bit, she finally glanced up at Connor again expectantly.

"Please?" she asked, and he couldn't stop the smile that came to his lips. Nice to see she remembered her manners.

"My hand?" he clarified, and Hannah nodded eagerly, holding out one of her own smaller hands palm up for him. "What for?" he asked, placing his fingers lightly on top of hers anyway.

She pursed her lips, reaching up with her other hand to hold his between the two of them, and tilted it this way and that. Giving it the same amount of attention as her drawn lines.

Hannah bit her lip, gently setting his hand down in front of her on the table. "Can I see... underneath?"

"Underneath?" He blinked. "You mean without my skin?" She nodded, almost timid.

Connor had never hidden any of the parts of him that were obviously not human, freely interfacing or doing small bits of maintenance in front of Hannah with little to no concern. He wasn't ashamed of being an android, it was who he was, _what_ he was, and his daughter being exposed to that was important to him. And because of his openness she had never before requested something like this--it was always freely given.

"Of course," he agreed easily, retracting the skin from his hand and flexing his fingers slightly. Hannah beamed and breathed a soft "thank you" before picking his hand up again to study it once more. "May I ask why?"

She hummed, and her answer made Connor roll his eyes playfully. "You'll see," she sing-songed, her cheekiness reminding him of Hank so much he took his free hand and lightly tapped her nose. She giggled before setting his hand down again and looking to her marker sheet once more. Nodding to herself, Hannah selected one of the permanent markers set before her. Still staring intently at Connor's hand resting on the table, she uncapped the marker and brought the tip to the knuckles of her right hand.

"Ah-ah," Connor halted her, both with his voice and skin-covered hand. He took advantage of her pause and plucked the marker from her fingers. Hannah frowned. "I think I have an idea what you're going for," he said, trying for placating, "but do you think we could use a marker that WON'T stain your skin?"

Hannah let out a long-suffering sigh. Another Hank-ism she'd picked up--Connor suppressed a snort. "But that's the best color," she whined, holding up her notebook paper as if that would sway him.

Connor raised an eyebrow and reached forward again, removing all of the permanent markers from her immediate reach. "Let's stick to these all the same. Less messy."

"Fine," she drawled, slightly sulky but not letting it deter her from her task. Looking over what she had left--crayola, roseart, some unbranded ones with no name and only the colors listed--she finally selected what must have been the next best thing. Setting her hand down on top of the paper again, marker poised over her knuckles, Hannah looked to him for approval. Connor smiled. "It's not gonna look as right," she lamented, looking back to his hand before starting to draw.

Connor laughed. "It's only a little bit darker than the other one. Splash some water on it and it will fade and look more accurate."

She hummed, attention fully on her copying now. Hannah's eyes darted back and forth between their two hands, and Connor watched with rapt attention. Slowly, somewhat shakily, Hannah traced circles around the knuckles of her right hand, matching the small separated plates that covered Connor's own.

From there Hannah mimicked the lines of each plate and panel, slowly making her way down the proximal phalanx to the first joint, following and filling in the creases and continuing on. Her attention to detail was admirable and adorable, Connor thought proudly as he watched her carefully trace around her fingernail.

The top side finished, she quietly asked him if he could please flip his hand over so she could do the bottom side too, and Connor was happy to oblige. Here she started with the thenar, looking at his hand closely to see where the soft pad started and ended in relation to his thumb. Once the outline was finished she started to color it in to match how his stood out slightly. "We'll have to make sure your hand dries really well before you touch anything or it will smudge," he said.

Hannah let out a soft "oh," blinking up at him. "And if my hand gets sweaty."

He laughed. "Guess that means you'll have to keep your hands cool."

"Dad, it's summer! That's impossible!"

Connor stroked a finger over her exposed palm, and she squirmed away from the tickle, fingers curling like the petals of a shy flower. "I'm sure if you flap your hands like a bird it will be fine," he said as seriously as he could muster. The twinkle in his eyes gave him away, however, even Hannah could see that.

"That's silly," she said, but laughed anyway, continuing with her lines.

It felt like they'd been sitting there for hours, but also like no time had passed at all. Connor was almost sad when Hannah happily chirped "done!" and lifted her hand, examining her work. "What d'you think?" she asked, turning hopeful eyes to meet Connor's.

Returning the same care and keen eye she'd used for him, Connor took her hand and looked it over. Some of the lines were shaky, especially where Hannah had tried to go thinner. She had captured each and every line, though, and the slight wobble in some of the faux-panels had Connor's thirium pump rushing slightly faster in a burst of affection.

"Perfect," he said, voiced strained slightly with emotion. Hannah's smile was brighter than the sun. "What brought this on?" he asked, lightly tracing over the lines on her index finger.

Hannah shrugged. "You're always telling me how much I remind you of Pops. I wanna be like both of you."

Connor practically flung himself out of his chair and around the table, kneeling down so he could hug her tightly. Hannah squirmed and squealed a laugh. "Dad!"

He was grateful for the telltale jingle of keys at the door, because he didn't have much confidence in his ability to speak at the moment. "I'm home!" he heard Hank call, and then he was in the entryway of the kitchen, taking in the scene of Connor on the floor clinging to their daughter with tears in his eyes, and Hannah smiling delightedly.

Hank huffed a laugh. "What're you two doing?"

Hannah grabbed Connor's wrist, hand still skinless, in her ink-free grip and lifted it and her newly decorated hand up triumphantly. "Look Pops, I match Dad!"

Hank smiled, a loving sparkle in his eye. "My little robo-family, I'm so proud." He let out an exaggerated sniffle, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. "But you know... you only have one hand done, Hann."

Hannah looked at her clean hand sadly. "I can't draw good with my other hand."

"Well," Connor murmured with a smirk the same time Hank said, "Guess that means Dad and I will have to help you out, huh?"

The evening sun was comforting as it streamed into the kitchen, lighting up their makeshift workstation and warming their arms and faces as it shined on them. Occasionally, Hannah would giggle at the tickling touch of Hank's hands and the marker on her skin, while Connor held out one hand for reference and the other settled in their daughter's hair, playing with the strands. Under the table, his feet cradled one of Hank's, slowly rubbing back and forth in a soothing repetition.


End file.
